


Summoning Souls

by Lady_Phenyx



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Transcendence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 15:36:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8291140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Phenyx/pseuds/Lady_Phenyx
Summary: Long, long after the Transcendence, Dipper has come to terms with the fact that all his loved ones will never again live at the same time.Then, in a twist of fate, they all reincarnate at roughly the same time.And Dipper's not the only one to notice...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is technically being posted for the 2nd year anniversary ficathon, though it was started well before that.  
> It's a combination of 3 prompts off the blog:
> 
> http://transcendence-au.tumblr.com/post/110949675487/hc-that-everyone-dipper-cares-about-has-a-symbol
> 
> http://transcendence-au.tumblr.com/post/142796865175/re-alcors-wheel-maybe-it-cant-be-used-to-hurt
> 
> http://transcendence-au.tumblr.com/post/141750826113/tau-prompt-someone-is-trying-to-collect-all-the

Over the years, Dipper came into contact with hundreds of souls. Some he met for a fleeting moment, the length of a summons only and forgotten almost as soon as he'd returned to the Mindscape. Other he only knew briefly for one short lifetime, losing touch after that lifetime ended. But there were others he would search out again and again, during his times of humanity, for that tenuous connection, that love and friendship that helped him remember himself.

 

There were times it worked...better than others. No matter how much he and a soul may have loved each other in one lifetime, they weren't always so accepting the next. Still, he kept trying, and met even more souls in the process. Not always deep or more than passing connections, but connections even so, and some meant more to him than he could ever express.

 

As Dipper grew more powerful, formed more relationships, his circle grew more complex. The Cult of Dippingsauce circle stayed fairly simple, as did the one he designed eventually for the Circle of the Dreamer's Star, and the one he still kept for friends or family, but those were special exceptions.

 

Though he did still also make exceptions for children's summons. They couldn't quite draw the circle properly, but when he remembered himself, then they were treated kindly, given a lecture on demon summoning, and then made a deal with. When he was more demonic, well...he was still kind to them, but it was more a demon kindness, creepy and off and wrong, but he wasn't cruel. It was one of the few things he could be grateful for when he remembered himself, that he was still kind to the children even when out of his mind.

 

People he wanted to remember, whose souls he wanted to find again and again, had symbols added to the circle as the years passed. Not everyone got a symbol – his circle only had so much room on it before things got a little ridiculous – but the ones closest to him did.

 

Besides, there was the ultra-complex circle that was only for the most formal of summons, the ones that tricked people into thinking it would bind him somehow by virtue of being so intricate, that he could add everyone's symbols to so it would be even more complicated. Some people frankly deserved having to draw a hundred symbols to call up a demon. Maybe give them time to think about what they were doing.

 

Not that they needed to know what all the symbols meant in order to draw it. He kept the symbols in his room of memories and he would be surprised if anyone ever actually managed to dig the whole thing up, let alone find out what they represented.

 

 

As for the people whose symbols were on the main circle – in general, he had only had one or two, up to four at the most, of his loved ones reincarnated at the same time. He took it as best he could. At least it meant he could focus on keeping them as safe as possible in that current lifetime, since hardly any of them incarnated in the same family.

 

Because, you know, that would be helpful for keeping an eye on them, but no, couldn't go easy on the demon.

 

But he was trying again – he'd gotten the lecture from Ma...Mizar, about neglecting his loved ones, one time too many, and he was going to try his best now not to deserve that lecture, that disappointment in his sister's eyes, again.

 

Because no matter what lifetime, he did love them, and he wanted to see them, watch over them, love them.

 

It hurt, to not see them for so long, and for them to no longer be the people he first loved, but he savored each lifetime they had together.

 

At the moment, though, he was beginning to think the universe really was against him.

 

Because it seemed like _everyone_ had reincarnated, all within a few years of each other! Mabel, Henry, Willow, Hank, Acacia, Stan, Ford, Wendy, Soos, Melody, Cassie, Pacifica, Lionel, Torako, all of them within a five year span!

 

And now, now Robbie, Tambry, Soos' Seven, Gideon, Killian, Michael, Thomas, Elisha and a dozen more who he'd been friends with, they'd all been born as well! Every single one within a decade, and it shouldn't have been possible, but it had happened anyway.

 

Part of him wanted to focus on the newly reborn Mizar, but he'd seen what happened when he did that to the exclusion of everyone else. (Bentley's face hovered in his mind with the thought, the reminders of just what happened when he depended only on Mizar to help him stay human, the burden he put on them, how very unfair it was to expect one person to shoulder that responsibility by themselves, and he refused to do that again, not if he could help it.)

 

But there were just so many of them! Dipper found himself blipping across the globe almost constantly, with barely time to answer the occasional summons in between. (His answering machine was getting the most work it had seen in centuries, although the frequency of its appearance didn't seem to be deterring anyone from trying over and over again to summon him. Fine. Let them listen to Mabel's covers of twenty first century music on endless repeat, see if he cared. He. Was. Busy!

 

...Maybe he should update it a little, though. Add some more music. But there was no way he was taking Mabel off it, no matter how old the music was. They could just deal with the ancient music.)

 

Dipper would have answered more of the summonses, just to keep people from being suspicious about what he might be up to (especially with that long, long period of being so demonic still so close, only two hundred years past, and he didn't want people thinking he was safe, he didn't, didn't want to be summoned by the horrible people who liked to call on him when they thought of him as safe but outrageously powerful, but he didn't want to be the evil thing, the stuff of nightmares, he liked being summoned by friends for sleepovers and movie nights and that wasn't going to happen if people didn't know he'd regained himself, why was it so hard to find a balance to these things) except for a few...little problems.

 

Like how apparently, his interest in these souls had left accidental marks on them from his constant hovering, marks that were brighter now that he was actively watching over them. Which meant that now, more and more supernatural creatures were curious about these souls, that Alcor didn't own, had no real reason that they could see to watch, yet was so protective over.

 

A rusalka going after Ford's newest incarnation, Florentino, dryads watching over Henry/Robin, fae with their eyes on Pacifica/Piper, vampires and demons and angels oh my, all of them interested in the dozens of souls who seemed intent on either running towards danger or ignoring it completely even as it surrounded them, souls that the Dreambender had such vested interest in.

 

Someone had to have noticed by now that Dipper was so distracted. Hell, even during most of the few summons he had answered during these last few years, he knew he'd only been able to give them half his attention. But, well...the last one had come right as Hank (now Harrison) had gotten the attention of a swarm of pixies, and half his attention was on the cult while the rest was getting ready to go save his nibling not nibling but yes nibling.

 

Thankfully Harrison was able to talk his way out of it, but it was still a tense few minutes, and Dipper knew the summoners had to have noticed something was up. Surely not even a cult could be that dense, when he was that obviously distracted?

 

Or maybe they could, he did have a bit of a reputation for odd summons behavior...he could only hope.

 

He was still so unsure where, when, how or even if he should introduce himself to this new Mizar, if he dare to try and say hello to his Sarva, or any of the others, but now, with everything that was happening...at least one of them should know what's going on, right?

 

Lucy Ann was being difficult to find at the moment, or he'd ask her for help – still would, if he could just find her. There were times when one of them would just disappear for span of time, and they'd both learned to let the other be for a few years before dragging them out of whatever hole they'd dug themselves into.

 

But no longer than a few years, another lesson learned the hard way.

 

 

It was almost a relief when he felt the tug that meant that Cassie (Catherine now, Dipper, remember that, remember how angry Mira was when you got her confused with previous Mizars, how unfair that was for the current incarnation) was summoning him for her traditional request of homework help and tutoring and eventual friendship.

 

Of course, he had to preface the whole thing with his equally traditional lecture about summoning demons, but the lecture got modified a bit this go around.

 

“...but even with all that said, it's good to see you again,” Dipper finished, abruptly changing tone and mood, picking up the carton of ice cream that somehow Cassie's soul always seemed to know to have on hand. No matter what other changes humans went through, their love of ice cream remained constant, a little thing Dipper was grateful for.

 

Catherine tilted her head and looked at him oddly. “I...never summoned you before,” she said, conviction wavering in the face of his contented grin.

 

“Not in this lifetime,” he agreed, gesturing with the spoon he'd conjured up for the ice cream between the two of them, “but this? The tutoring thing? You've summoned me for homework help in more of your lifetimes than you'd believe. And after we get this taken care of, there's a few things I need to talk to you about. So what's giving you a problem this time?”

 

 

Catherine was properly skeptical about the whole 'you-summoned-me-for-help-in-previous-incarnations' information Dipper dropped on her, alongside the 'I...may need your help' he dropped on her before they started going over the homework that was giving her issues, though he didn't really explain just why he, a demon of unimaginable power, would need her help. Not just yet, while there was still homework and a deal to be completed, and trust not yet established.

 

But dammit, Dipper needed someone to talk to. He...he needed a _friend_ , especially now as everything went crazy around him, and he still hadn't gotten a hold of Lucy Ann.

 

He didn't tell Catherine everything, obviously. Some things still needed to be earned, like trust, and previous incarnations notwithstanding, he didn't know yet just how much he could tell this Cassie, and knew she had no reason to trust him yet.

 

But Dipper hoped, oh so badly, that she was similar to her previous incarnations, enough that they could be friends, trusted, close friends, again, but he just didn't know yet. It was part of remembering that they weren't the same every incarnation, needing to remember what he had and hadn't yet told them in this go around, what he could tell them this time.

 

He did leave her a simplified version of his circle, the Cult of Dippingsauce version her soul had created so long ago, the promise that he'd answer it without blood needed, and a million questions left unanswered – as well as the knowledge that sooner or later, she was going to give in to curiosity and summon him for answers. And that he was going to give in and give them to her for cheap.

 

He wanted to go and introduce himself to Mizar, too, now that Cassie's soul had summoned him, but the time was just never right. Not that that particular problem had stopped him before, but he remembered all the problems he'd caused Bentley, Mira, the dozens of Mizars before that with an ill-timed or impulsive introduction, and, well...things were so complicated already.

 

Not that that stopped him from checking in on her a few (dozen) times a week.

 

He tried not to watch over her more than the others, but, well, he'd never been perfect, and that soul was his still his sister/brother/sibling.

 

 

He really shouldn't have been surprised that she noticed him, and confronted him about a month after he'd started the extra surveillance.

 

But then again, most Mizars were either fearless or more than a touch reckless, and Mina wasn't an exception.

 

Dipper had been careful not to actually come into Mina's room, to hover in the Mindscape where she shouldn't be able to see him, trying to stay unobtrusive and unobserved.

 

But when he blipped in, Mina paused in doing her homework. Slowly she lowered her stylus, before rapidly scrolling through screens on her tablet.

 

She whipped around in her chair, holding up the glowing screen in Dipper's direction. The brightness of the screen emphasized the dark sigils and binding circle on it, and Dipper was impressed despite himself. Most creatures would be ready to flee at that particular combination, even before they were activated.

 

“I know you're there!” Mina said, hands steady even if her voice shook. “Show yourself!”

 

Dipper winced. One word could be used to sum up his materialization and appearance as he made his way into the material realm, and that word was 'sheepish'.

 

Mina gaped at the demon hovering in her bedroom, the most powerful creature in existence _in her bedroom_ and and and a demon of that much power had no right to look that pathetically hopeful or so much like a guilty kitten that had been caught with its paw in the goldfish bowl.

 

“Um...” he said, and Mina was briefly confused by the lack of reverb to his voice – all demons were supposed to have that, weren't they? “Um...Hi, Mizar,” he said, ducking his head and looking at her through his bangs. “...Surprise?” he added after a few seconds of heavy silence, a sprinkle of glitter falling from a wave of jazz hands.

 

The tablet was only saved from an ignoble fate of crashing to the floor by a flash of blue fire catching it an inch off the ground.

 

 

The introduction to the new Mizar went better than Bentley's first official meeting, at least, though that wasn't saying much. At least this time there wasn't the notions of Twin Souls to deal with, just a human (rightfully) upset to find out that they were the infamous Mizar, that they had a demonic brother, and that Dipper owned their soul, which was never the best opener to a conversation.

 

There were, however, only a few hysterics and denials before Mina managed to start to calm down. Once she had, though, she demanded a full explanation of just what was going on and why this crazy demon thought _she_ was Mizar and just what that meant and everything that was going on thank you.

 

This time, Dipper decided to try laying everything out on the table, up to and including why he hadn't contacted Mina until now.

 

Mina was both fairly understanding of his reasoning, seeing as how the demonic brother thing was still a bit of a shock and it would have made life a bit difficult, and irritated that it took him this long to contact her.

 

Seeing that Mina was still reeling from all this (it wasn't every day that an incredibly powerful demon showed up and claimed you were his almost equally famous sibling/lover/mother/child/whatever, even if he did emphasize the sibling part, and that he was only one that might even be remotely telling the truth about such a thing, and the stories about him were so varied and wild it was hard to tell truth from fiction about just what he might want no matter what he might claim) Dipper decided it was time to go and give her a little space.

 

But before he did, he made sure he left his family circle for Mina to call him with after she'd had some time to think, along with explaining again why he'd waited so long to contact her and promising he'd answer to the circle he'd given her whenever she called, whenever she was ready to talk about this, but please don't wait too long okay?

 

After a few seconds of mental debate, he left her Catherine's number as well, letting her know that Catherine was a friend to both of them – and not to tell anyone about that, to try and keep them both safe.

 

Not everyone took well to people being friends with demons, after all. Hell, in 99.9% of the cases, that was a good thing.

 

Not Dipper's fault he was the outlier.

 

 

About three days after meeting the latest Mizar, Dipper finally felt Lucy Ann's tug. Well, less a 'tug' and more an 'impatient yank', but still.

 

He answered that call almost embarrassingly quickly, if the smirk on her face was anything to go by.

 

He didn't bother asking what Lucy Ann had been doing, not right away at least. She called it 'nagging' and would refuse to answer just to be irritating.

 

Lucy Ann stepped back from the (sloppily drawn, but she used the _family_ circle and damn it if Dipper didn't still answer to that no matter how badly drawn it was) chalk circle and sat down on a cushion shoved against the wall.

 

There was a second cushion set beside hers and Dipper sank onto it without a second thought, slipping into his original form as he did rather than the twenty something he tended to prefer.

 

“Heard you've been busy lately,” Lucy Ann said, only teasing a little, but there was enough seriousness in her tone to make Dipper turn to look at her properly.

 

She was digging in a backpack, finally pulling out a pair of Pitt Colas. She waved one at Dipper gently and he took the can, cracking it open and biting down hard on a finger, letting the blood his fangs drew drip into the can. Ritual complete, they traded cans and settled more comfortably against the wall.

 

“I didn't think you got my message,” Dipper said, taking a sip from his can. “I know you get busy sometimes.”

 

“So do you,” Lucy Ann replied, taking a slug. “Damn. Forgot how much of a kick demon blood has...anyway. Figured you'd find me when you found Hank's latest.”

 

“...Harrison seemed to have everything under control, and then Catherine started summoning me again and I kinda hoped...”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I already was keeping an eye on him,” Lucy Ann waved vaguely to make her point. “He'd laying low. Actually reminds me a bit of Hank, but in a good way. Not the point right now. You want to hear the latest rumors or not?”

 

“...how bad is it?” Dipper asked, not sure if he wanted to know but pretty sure he needed to.

 

“You're not as sneaky as you think you are. Someone figured out that the symbols on your circle represent people, and they've been putting the pieces together. Nobodies' sure who all your symbols are yet, but they've figured out they're all alive,” she said. “Maybe you should've cut back on the mother-henning a bit, you dork,” she added with a smirk. “Or at least look online once in awhile.”

 

Dipper muttered crankily about being all-knowing and not a mother hen and took another drink as Lucy Ann cackled. She sobered quickly and grunted as she gave Dipper's arm a punch. “Seriously, though, people who pay attention to these things are freaking out, and not always just in a nerd way. They can't tell just why there's all this stuff going on, just that you're always there when it happens, and that certain people always seem to be there too, so they're putting things together. They can't tell if you're trying to destroy 'em or protect 'em, and there's a version of your circle going around with just about everyone's symbol on it, with a note on the side. Looks like Mabel's handwriting.”

 

“...everyone's?” Dipper asked, slightly disbelieving, and Lucy Ann shrugged.

 

Digging through her backpack, she produced a folded printout and handed it over. “Maybe not every person you ever gave a symbol to,” she admitted as Dipper sat down the can and started unfolding the paper. “But most of them, the ones on your main circle, I'd say. The ones you've known in more than one go-round, at least. Found this online, didn't add a thing.”

 

Dipper, meanwhile, was staring at the printout of his circle, the symbols clear and crisp and each bringing to his mind a soul, names and faces and lifetimes. Beside each symbol was a line, and a good half of them had a name written on that line.

 

The names, he noted with sinking heart and a stomach caught in his throat (both of which were constructs of his mind but felt so real), were mostly the ones he'd used to refer to the soul, rather than the current owner (Mizar, he saw, and Sarva, the triplets' star names and Wendy's and more. The soul names were usually only ones Dipper or Lucy Ann used, to keep track of a soul, so it couldn't control them the way a True Name could, but it was still disturbing to see them on there) but worse than that were the ones where the current incarnation's name was labeled next to their soul name, some with question marks, some with more than one name, but far too many had the correct name for that soul's current life written on that paper.

 

Off to the side of the page sat the note Lucy Ann had pointed out, in Mabel's perky handwriting, and he could see it as if the original Journal sat there instead of a print out, sparkly purple gel pen and all. He could even remember the argument he and Mabel had had over it, once, so long ago, over her flippant warning and if the situation wasn't so worrying at this moment he could have cried at the realization that he had nearly forgotten the sound of her voice, the look of her writing, of her handiwork.

 

_ Bringing these people together can quell Alcor's wrath,  _ it said, as opposed to Mabel's initial note of  _ Find these people if Alcor's being a grumpy pants, they'll help calm him down. _

 

“I don't think anyone's in danger yet,” Lucy Ann said bluntly. “Everyone's still too afraid of you to try anything while you're keeping such a close eye on them. Plus they haven't figured out just everyone yet, or why you're watching them, but we're going to have a problem when they do.”

 

Dipper buried his head in his arms with a despairing groan. Lucy Ann patted his back sympathetically, though Dipper was pretty sure she was enjoying his frustration, at least a little. “What was I supposed to do?” he asked. “It's like everyone came back at once, and then things started going after them, but the more I watched out for them the more things came, and UGH.”

 

“Have you been in touch with the Dinner Crew?” he asked, after a huge breath that he didn't need but that helped anyway. 

 

Lucy Ann gave a little shrug and a nod. “The latest head's not as good as Hank was, but he's trying, at least. And he listens. Do you need them to go on alert?”

 

“Not yet,” Dipper said. “I mean, that's jumping things just a little.”

 

“...you totally want us watching them,” Lucy Ann said with a grin.

 

“...like hawks,” Dipper agreed after a second, leaning back against the wall. “But I can't. It's not...you have other things to do, and if they start getting watched by the Dinner Crew, then whoever's trying to figure out who the symbols are is going to figure them out sooner. Ugh, what a mess.”

 

“You said it,” Lucy Ann said sympathetically. Well, mostly sympathetically. Just enough to keep Dipper from flipping her off. She may have been nearly older than dirt and not close to the current incarnations, but she got how close Dipper got to them.

 

Dipper cracked open an eye to look at her. “You should probably be keeping an eye out,” he said. “You're on the circle too, you know.”

 

Lucy Ann's brow creased and she snatched the paper out of Dipper's hands to start searching the circle, so fiercely it was a miracle the paper didn't catch fire, eyes darting between the different symbols until Dipper took pity and tapped one with a claw, one of the symbols that had a few names beside it marked with question marks but no definite answer for who it belonged to, and just a bigger question mark for what the soul's name might be. “There. That's you,” he said shortly.

 

Lucy Ann stared at the symbol for a few seconds before she gave his shoulder a hard punch, but her eyes were soft. “Sentimental dork,” she muttered. “...love you too.”

 

 

Dipper was beginning to seriously question his decision not to involve the Dinner Crew about two weeks later.

 

The triplets had gone missing. Admittedly, they weren't triplets anymore, weren't even really his now, but some part of him still thought of them as his stars, his triplets, _his,_ despite all the time that had passed.

 

And all three of them were missing.

 

Dipper was blipping all over the planet, losing his mind as he tried to watch over all his other symbols while still trying to find his stars while they were blocked from his sight.

 

He gave in after a day, as even he couldn't keep up that pace, and sought out Lucy Ann to bring in the Dinner Crew.

 

She took it a step further and found the remnants of the Cult of Dippingsauce and Circle of the Dreamer's Star, recruiting them to help. The Circle was a bit confused about it, but somehow she talked them into it, probably helped by the fact that there were three people missing, with a list of others who might be in danger, and their god was frantic with worry. Not that she gave them the whole names, the soul names, but she gave them enough.

 

Dipper really wished now that he'd tried to contact all the stars on his circle before now, during this lifetime, but he knew for a fact that some of them would not have reacted well to a demon just showing up and trying to talk to them, to say the least.

 

Exorcisms were not fun, and Dipper hadn't been in the mood to deal with someone trying one again. Rejection cut even deeper, and well...little wonder he'd put it off with some of them. It...probably wouldn't have ended well.

 

Then Ford's reincarnation went missing. And then Stan's. One by one, rapidly, sometimes two or three a week, until thirteen of the sixteen major symbols were missing.

 

Dipper, nearly out of his mind with panic at this point, was called by Lucy Ann to the Dinner Crew's headquarters. He appeared without theatrics to find her pacing the edge of his circle, cursing under her breath.

 

“I can't find them either,” Dipper said before she could speak. “I was watching over them, but you, Mina, and Catherine are the only ones I'd really contacted. And you're the only ones left.”

 

“And your hovering might be why whoever's doing this hasn't touched us yet,” Lucy Ann said, pausing her pacing to tap a foot and cross her arms, looking up at the board with all the symbols and names on it on the wall. The ones that were currently missing were marked in red, and the board was almost covered with it. There were suspects and theories on the board as well, but they were depressingly few and wild compared to the stark list of the missing. “ That is, if you've been as unsubtle as usual about this. Hard to be sure, though. Doubt Mina or Catherine have exactly been bragging about it, and I made sure we didn't tell anyone we didn't trust why we were watching these people, so I don't think we have a traitor.”

 

“None of them are dead, at least,” Dipper said, floating closer to the board and ignoring the crack about his subtlety. “Though that's not always all that reassuring, but I've been watching so closely this time around, I'd know. I always know.”

 

Lucy Ann winced, well acquainted with how little reassurance the words 'not dead' could be. “We'll have to put the whole Crew on high alert,” she said. “I know we were trying not to let anyone know who they are by watching them too closely, but we might not have a choice anymore. Either they do know and they haven't taken Mina or Catherine yet because they're scared of you, or the time hasn't been right, or they don't and they're still searching, but they need protection.”

 

“...don't forget you'll need some too, in that case,” Dipper said softly.

 

Lucy Ann scoffed and began to protest before Dipper interrupted. “I mean it, Lucy Ann! Look, we both know you're stupid old and way better at defending yourself than just about anybody else, but they're still going to come after you primed for vampire, and even you aren't immune to everything yet.”

 

Lucy Ann was still scowling. In a sudden burst of desperation, Dipper shrank down to her level, clasped his hands in front of him, and gave her the biggest, most piteous puppy eyes he was capable of.

 

And there is nothing in the world quite as pitiful as a shapeshifter giving the puppy eyes.

 

Lucy Ann groaned, covering her own eyes while her other hand propped itself on her hip, refusing to look at Dipper.

 

“No. Dipper, I'm the oldest known vampire in the world, I don't need...” Lucy Ann made the mistake of uncovering her eyes to glare at Dipper.

 

If anything, his eyes had gone even wider, and when she looked at him, he added a wibbling lip to the mix. “ _Please,_ Lucy Ann.”

 

“That is not fair,” she accused, pointing at Dipper with a finger that shook both with anger and suppressed laughter. “You don't _do_ puppy eyes! And I have an idea, but it won't work with bodyguards!”

 

Dipper gave another wibble before dropping the act, shooting back up in height to his preferred form. “What idea?” he asked.

 

Lucy Ann grinned. It was the type of grin that usually has a fin on top and is traveling towards you at high speeds.

 

 

“This is a terrible plan,” Dipper said two days later, watching from above as Lucy Ann sat on a bench in the park. “Seriously, this plan sucks.”

 

“Hush, you,” Lucy Ann shot back, not looking up at Dipper so as not to blow his cover. “It's not like you had a better idea.”

 

“I'm sure I could have come up with one that didn't involve using you as bait,” he said crankily, crossing arms and legs sulkily. “This is a terrible, awful plan.”

 

What happened next, as Lucy Ann finally gave in and glanced up at Dipper to give him a glare, happened almost too fast even for the two immortals to follow.

 

Dipper spasmed as two cries for help echoed through his head, Mina and Catherine screaming for him almost as one.

 

Below him, Lucy Ann screamed once, a short, furious cry of surprise before she started cursing.

 

Dipper fought to shake off the shock, crying out as a spray of holy water hit him, not a stream directed at him or at Lucy Ann, but aimed to the side to catch the vampire with the spray, catching the demon as well, aimed well enough they'd never know if the attackers knew Dipper was there or not.

 

By the time Dipper had recovered, smoke was drifting up from below, the bodyguards that had been watching Lucy Ann coughing and choking on it, blinded and taken down.

 

And Lucy Ann was missing.

 

 

In a blind panic, Dipper shot to Mina's home and found in empty and silent. He tore through the apartment, ripping open closets and through every room, as though she might be hiding from him, in a macabre game of hide-and-seek.

 

He ripped from Mina's home to Catherine's, tearing into corporeality with such force, such speed, that the air ripped, a physical, audible sound, with the force of his passing, traveling fast and careless enough to actually hit the floor and skid along it, leaving claw marks in the floor as he dug in to stop.

 

He screamed her name, even as he knew it was futile. The house was cold and still, and no living person was there.

 

Panicked and sick, Dipper knelt on the floor, hands pressed to his mouth tight enough his claws bit into his cheeks, golden tears streaming and wings wrapping tight around his body as he wailed quietly, like the child part of him would always be, and shook with fear and despair.


	2. Chapter 2

Dipper couldn't say how long he knelt there, unable to move, trapped by fear for the souls he cared most about in the world. It didn't matter that most of them didn't know yet how important they were to him, what mattered was that they were in danger, and he didn't know where they were, how to find them, and there was no one who could help him.

 

A small part of Dipper knew he was overreacting just a bit, that the Dinner Crew would help him, even if he had been acting more demonic far too recently, Lucy Ann would have made sure they knew he was in his right mind again, and now that she...that even she had been taken, they'd help him to help her.

 

He wasn't alone in this, he did have allies.

 

But most of him was hyperventilating, an action useless to a demon but still happening, blind panic taking over as frantic pulls to his link to Mizar proved that she was blocked from him.

 

Dipper shot to his feet, pacing in Catherine's room, hands digging though his hair as he muttered to himself.

 

With a spin that made his coat tails flare and dance, Dipper summoned up a cork board, pins, paper, pens, and strings. He stared the board down for a few seconds, head low and teeth bared in a mockery of a smile, before his hands started moving at inhuman speeds.

 

He was going to find each and every one of his symbols, no matter what it took.

 

He'd tried the demon way. Now it was time to try his way.

 

 

Lucy Ann came to slowly, clutching at her head. It had been a long time since she'd had a headache, possibly since the first time she'd overdosed on demon blood thanks to her willing donor and an abundance of curiosity from them both on just what would happen.

 

As it turned out, what happened was a power rush the likes of which Lucy Ann hadn't felt in centuries and a hangover on the level of the ones gained from Soul Cider.

 

This particular headache rivaled that. Cradling her head, Lucy Ann inched over until she was sitting properly, keeping her eyes closed.

 

But even with her eyes closed, she still could sense more than a human. Wherever she was, it was chill, with the tang of metal and stone and damp. A basement or warehouse, most likely – but she would have guessed that even without those smells. For some reason, cults and their ilk were inordinately fond of basements and warehouses.

 

Once she was past the smell of chill and mildew, she could make out the scents of humans. Warm, bloodied, frightened humans.

 

With the ease of long practice she ignored the surge of hunger that rose at the smell of someone's scrapes and cuts, blood brought to the surface of the skin. She just wished she'd had time to be introduced to some of the symbols this time around, so she would know if she was smelling one of them right now or if this was something, someone different.

 

Lucy Ann took a moment to try and find out what she could remember. There had been a spray of holy water, and fuck but it had hurt, but being as damn old as she was meant that while it had burned she wasn't going to be hurting much longer. Then there had been blackness and jostling, smells of garlic and more holy water, and it was pretty obvious that she'd lost consciousness somewhere in there.

 

It was only then that she noticed the weight on her wrists. For a human it would have been heavy, but she noticed the chill first, the soft clinks the chains made, and had to throttle down a fresh surge of rage when she realized she'd been chained to the wall like an animal, with cuffs around her wrists and ankles and a collar around her throat.

 

At least they hadn't tried to muzzle her. She still hadn't forgiven the cult that had pulled that with Dipper yet, and it had been what, a thousand years? Two? Since the Scouring had happened...?

 

“Hey, you okay over there?” a soft voice called over, and Lucy Ann's head shot up, looking around in surprise, hissing softly in pain at the dim light as she finally opened her eyes.

 

The woman calling to her was small, and dark, with ink black hair swinging down in a short bob, though it was tangled and messy at the moment, and there was a smudge of dust or dirt on her face. The pajama pants she wore were in similar shape, as was the t-shirt and mismatched fuzzy socks, but she seemed unharmed apart from that.

 

“...I think so,” Lucy Ann said, still trying to judge this woman. She was chained much like Lucy Ann was, though without the collar.

 

As if realizing why Lucy Ann was staring, the woman gave a crooked grin. “You're Lucy Ann, right? I'm Catherine. Tyrone mentioned you.”

 

It took Lucy Ann a second before she grinned. That dork would give his friends a code name for him, to use in human conversations, when they thought they might be overheard. “Yeah, he mentioned you too,” she said. She scooted a little closer to Catherine, lowering her voice. “Is everyone here?”

 

“Everyone...?” Catherine said uncertainly, lowering her own voice, before it clicked. “Oh! On the circle...well, Tyrone said there were about sixteen on the main circle right now, and about twenty more on the expanded circle. I think everyone from the main circle's here now that they got you. It's kind of hard to tell, whoever took us is trying to keep us apart as much as they can.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I'm not sure,” Catherine said. “I tried to get some information, but I only got glimpses of the other people here and of the people that dragged me here. They won't talk to me. I...think it's pretty obvious it's about Tyrone, though. Why else get all the symbols?”

 

Lucy Ann cursed, quietly and vigorously, with all the years she'd been alive to collect curse words showing in her tirade.

 

Catherine watched in impressed silence until the tirade was over. Finally Lucy Ann slumped back against the wall, frustrated and furious.

 

“Now what?” Catherine asked, leaning a little against her own wall.

 

“I'm not sure,” Lucy Ann admitted, closing her eyes. “I just don't know enough yet. Looks like it's up to that dork now.”

 

“...we're doomed,” Catherine said, deadpan.

 

 

Kiyo poked her head into the room Dipper was using for his white and cork boards, the number of which had multiplied as he continued connecting threads and jotting notes.

 

The Dinner Crew members who had been watching Catherine's home had found him soon after he'd started his frantic deductions.

 

He hadn't wanted to move, so they'd picked up the first three cork boards Dipper had conjured and bodily moved them, ignoring the hissing demon still trying to use said boards, and transported them to a Dinner Crew safe house.

 

Kiyo watched as Dipper stood back from the boards, looking them over critically. Absently he raised the dry erase marker he'd been using up to his mouth, chewing on it, forgetting that his teeth were currently razor sharp with frustration and rage. They slid through the plastic like butter, and Dipper sputtered and coughed as he got a mouthful of ink, spitting it out and pitching the marker and its pieces into a trash bin full of paper and more mangled markers.

 

“It's going that well, is it?” Kiyo asked, making Dipper jump, his hair and wings fluffing out like the fur of a startled cat. “Why don't you use those tablet boards?” she asked as he huffed, selecting another marker. “At least those pens don't have ink in them.”

 

“These are what I used to use,” Dipper said shortly. “I went for the familiar, all right? And they're easier to replace when I bite them. You're acting awfully calm.”

 

“I have to be,” Kiyo said, with a sigh that left the room a good ten degrees hotter. “This city can't handle a frantic dragon. I'm panicking on the inside.”

 

“Right, I...sorry,” Dipper muttered, dropping the new marker and burying his hands in his hair, tugging hard. “Sorry. I just...I can't _find_ them. I've tried and tried, and I can't find them, can't feel them, I can't even feel _Mizar,_ and that shouldn't be possible!”

 

Kiyo hummed, a deep rumble that rattled Dipper's conjured bones. “Have you ruled out pocket dimensions? I believe you mentioned those once...”

 

“Not yet, I just can't seem to...” Dipper was cut off, doubling in half with the force of the summon, so strong it felt like a blow. Kiyo watched with mounting worry, shifting until she could reach in and cup her friend in one giant paw. Dipper reached out blindly and grabbed one of those huge claws for support, form beginning to flicker, teeth gritted against the force of the pull.

 

“What...?” Kiyo asked, pulling Dipper a little closer.

 

“Summons,” he gasped out. “Strong...strongest in centuries. Can't fight it...damn! I...”

 

“Go,” the dragon urged quietly. “You'll only be pulled harder until you do, and make it as quick as you can.”

 

Dipper forced up a wan smile for his friend before releasing his hold on the room, the death grip that had been the only thing keeping him from being forcefully thrown out of reality and to the circle, and spun into the summons, as able to resist as a leaf could escape a whirlpool.

 

 

Lucy Ann had started to doze when she heard footsteps outside the small room she and Catherine were trapped in.

 

“Wake up,” she hissed to her fellow captive, who sat up, blinking quickly. “Someone's coming.”

 

Lucy Ann stifled the groan when the four people she'd heard entered the room, each in a long, red, hooded robe. Cultists, again. What was with their obsession with robes, anyway? They were so impractical, especially around chalk circles and candles that you left on the floor, it was amazing there weren't more stories of them catching themselves on fire.

 

Being best friends with a demon meant encountering far more cultists than Lucy Ann was happy with, but she was more disgusted with their lack of originality.

 

Still, she had to give them one grudging credit. They were very careful as they unlocked the chains binding the women to the walls, careful to keep the ones on Lucy Ann taunt so she couldn't bite either of them. With Catherine they were a little less careful, but she was still human, not vampire, so it did make some sense.

 

A cultist with sense. When she got out of this Lucy Ann was going to check and make sure the world wasn't actually ending.

 

Her heart sank when they were finally pulled into the echoing room that was their destination.

 

Etched deeply into the floor was Dipper's circle, and there was a person chained to the floor by their wrists on top of each symbol.

 

Lucy Ann and Catherine were dragged to the last two empty symbols and the chains on their wrists attached to the staples on the inner edge of their symbol's circles.

 

Surreptitiously Lucy Ann tested hers when the cultists walked away. The slack between manacle and staple was enough to let her sit up comfortably, but she wouldn't be able to stand, and both staple and manacle were too strong to break quickly.

 

Well, she might be able to pull her hands free, but it would likely break more than one bone and it would take too long to heal for a fight. Not an option unless she was desperate. And pulling the staple free was going to take time if she was cautious, and lots of effort.

 

So Lucy Ann sat back on her heels and waited, fuming. This was Dipper's circle, and that dork was going to gloat forever if he had to rescue her.

 

Not all of the captives were taking this quietly. Some were muttering, and one was crying. One of the other captives spoke up, demanding to know what was going on in a voice that toed the line between anger and fear.

 

They were ignored for the moment, save for occasional glances to be sure they weren't trying to escape, as the cultists around them continued to set up. Lucy Ann twisted in her bonds, trying to see what they were doing.

 

This was no ordinary summons, and she'd like to have a little warning if she was going to have to get them all out of here. It wasn't going to be pretty if they tried to kill all of Dipper's 'symbols' and, strong stomach or not, she didn't particularly want to be here if he had to do something about that.

 

There were candles being lit, though they were smart enough not to use scented candles or incense. Or to try to use Ygdrassil. It may have usually pacified Dipper, but it sent other demons into an animalistic rage, and so far as Lucy Ann knew, only family and friends knew about how Dipper acted under its influence, and if he was angry, well.

 

Not that it would have pacified him under these circumstances. When he was this upset, it just made it worse, sending him hunting down the ones who'd angered him like a cat toying with prey.

 

Dipper would have hated it, but the results might have been worth it to Lucy Ann.

 

Lucy Ann also had to admit she was just a touch vindictive.

 

She tried to twist farther to see what preparations the cult was making – there were more circles around the one she was tied in, ones she didn't like the looks of – but it was difficult at best with her hands chained to the floor in front of her.

 

Even with her enhanced senses, she really couldn't tell what they were doing, and it was incredibly frustrating.

 

She could see Catherine across the circle from her, and the woman she knew was Mina, the currant Mizar, halfway between them. The two women were watching the activity around them just as intently as Lucy Ann was.

 

At least someone else here had some clue for what to do, even if they didn't have the experience Lucy Ann did.

 

 

After what felt like an eternity to stressed nerves and heightened tensions (though was likely more around a half hour) it seemed that whatever preparations the cult was preparing were complete.

 

There was an observation platform on one side of the room, with three people standing on it. The one in the middle was dressed in robes fancier than anyone else in the rooms, so it was pretty easy to guess he was in charge of this circus.

 

The person beside him was running a finger down the clipboard they held, speaking in low voices to the people who came up one by one to whisper to them.

 

They stepped forward after the last of what Lucy Ann thought of as the worker bees hurried back off the platform, speaking quietly to the leader.

 

Apparently satisfied with the preparations, the leader stepped forward.

 

He pulled back his hood, revealing a man in his late forties or early fifties if Lucy Ann was any good at guessing ages, the type of man who looked as if he should be in an office with his stomach stretching out the front of his dress shirt as he complained to coworkers about the weekend game rather than in this well lit demonic summoning.

 

Beaming like a pastor with a room full of converts, the man smiled beatifically down at them.

 

Lucy Ann wanted to claw that smile off his face.

 

Ignoring the glares directed at him by roughly half the people bound to the circle below, he began to speak.

 

“Greetings! Though I wish this could be in different circumstances, I welcome you to our grand project. As many of you know, demons are rife in our world, their terror a plague upon humanity...”

 

It was physically painful for Lucy Ann to stop her eyes from rolling. The man continued on in that vein for a what seemed like an eternity, and though a few of the symbols looked like they were wavering, thinking he may have a point, most still looked terrified or furious.

 

Finally, after far too long, he began wrapping up his sermon, snapping into something akin to business mode, and Lucy Ann focused on him again. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Catherine and Mina doing the same, with more of the others that she had yet to properly meet in this lifetime also looking intently at the man on the platform.

 

“...the most dangerous of them all, Alcor the Dreambender! Through extensive study, we have found that each of your souls corresponds to a symbol on his wheel. It's obvious that all your souls reborn at the same time is a major event. Alcor's behavior has been erratic, even for a demon, since the last of you were born.”

 

Lucy Ann silently began listing all the curses she knew – and as old as she was, there were a lot of them, some she'd even invented earlier in the cell. Overprotective dork strikes again, putting people in danger by trying so hard to keep them safe.

 

And worse, the people around her were listening. That might have just been because this was the first explanation they were getting for why they'd been kidnapped, but she was still worried.

 

“We do not know why exactly he has been watching all of you, but we can guess. Ancient manuscripts...” Lucy Ann choked back a laugh, knowing exactly what 'manuscripts' they were talking about, and oh, how Mabel would have laughed about this, “say that _'_ _Bringing these people together can quell Alcor's wrath',_ and there is only one way to quell a demon's wrath. Together, we shall either destroy Alcor the Dreambender, unholy offspring of nightmares and the void, and rid the world of the worst plague it has ever known, or bind him so tightly he shall never again be a danger to this world!”

 

“Be calm,” he called as several of the captive began to panic, fighting their bonds or crying. “The manuscript is very clear that bringing harm to a symbol's incarnation will bring Alcor's wrath down upon those who do such a thing, and anger him more. None of you shall be harmed.”

 

“But with all of us working together, all you need do is remain calm and cooperative. And soon, the Dreambender will either be bound, sealed away, or destroyed. Indeed, you should rejoice, to have been chosen by Fate to be part of this grand destiny! After our ritual is complete, the Dreambender will either be bound to our wills and subservient to our wishes, or better yet, sealed away, never again to plague humanity! While we regret what we have done to all of you, surely you must admit that the ends will justify the means?” 

 

Ignoring everything else, a cultist stood behind each symbol with their attention firmly on the person they watched, and Lucy Ann thought she caught the glint of metal in more than one hand. Despite the pretty words, the reassurances that none of them would be harmed, she was fairly sure that if something started to go wrong, they did mean to spill blood tonight, to either bind or destroy her best friend – and this might be the spell and circle that could actually do it.

 

The cult leader began the chant, echoed by his robed followers, the sound growing and echoing in the huge room.

 

Under the cover of the noise, Lucy Ann began working the stake her manacles were chained to out of the concrete. It was slow work, working as she was to keep from being either seen or heard, and with the stake sunk so deeply into the concrete, but while the humans weren't strong enough to pull it free, Lucy Ann was far stronger than anyone her size had a right to be.

 

She was a bit surprised how long it was taking Dipper to answer the summons – he must have felt the seriousness of the summons, but she guessed he had only that vague 'feel' to go by, not nearly enough information to know that this was a summons he really needed to answer.

 

Knowing Dipper, he was ignoring it as long as possible so he could keep searching for them. Lucy Ann was not enjoying the irony of that.

 

 

There was no scent of blood to tell Dipper this summons was a bad one – just the feeling he got, sometimes, that said that this had the potential to be very, very bad.

 

But whatever it was, it overrode his irritation at being dragged away from his search, transmuting it to rage. 

 

He hit the center of the circle on all fours, in his black and brickwork demon form, snarling and with bits of blue fire dripping from his claws. His wings arched, as tall as he was and wide enough to brush the edges of the circle.

 

Then his vision cleared from those brief seconds of disorientation a forced appearance still caused and he froze.

 

All of them. They were all here, every one of them, every single person he'd been searching for ever since the first disappeared. 

 

And standing over each of them was a cultist with a knife.

 

The lines of the circle glowed with blue light, each line lit from within, each line, each symbol carved into the ground, all glowing with a light that shone brighter with each second, lines of neon blue carved into the floor.

 

The light pulsed, steady and rhythmic as a heartbeat, and with each pulse Dipper felt power coursing through him, pure and clean, a boost of power the likes of which he hadn't felt in centuries.

 

The cult leader, up on a platform, was chanting something, and Dipper could feel it trying to pull him down, seal him away, shred him into nothingness.

 

It was strong, too strong, and he could feel it pulling at the edges of his being...but the power of having all his symbols around him, in the circle, bolstered his strength, and he felt chains wrapping around his body only to slide off the shield of his symbol's light, shielded him from the knives made of magic and words that tried to shred his mind and body and magic, the spells and blood and symbols that would have left him writhing in pain if it weren't for the souls surrounding him.

 

Dipper started snarling, quietly, the snarl that went straight to the hind brain and flipped every switch marked 'RUN'.

 

More than one cultist stepped back, instincts overriding their determination to see this through.

 

“Stay strong!” their leader commanded from atop his platform. “We must complete the ritual! Alcor, you will submit to our wills, or their lives will be forfeit!”

 

The cultists raised their knives, the symbols beginning to struggle and curse, yell and cry, but Alcor's voice cut through it all, cold and soft and as human as a thrown knife.

 

“If any of you touch them, if they come to harm at your hands, then this life, and the one after, ten times over, I will seek you out, and I will devour your souls, until there is not enough left of you to reenter this or any cycle,” he stated, flat and assured, not a threat but a promise written in stone.

 

The leader stepped back, staggered when he met those blazing gold eyes, unable to tear his own eyes away. In those eyes he saw his own death, and knew without a doubt that if they didn't pull this off, then that was his death in the circle, and it knew him.

 

It knew him, had marked him, and would never stop until it had him.

 

The cult hesitated, waiting for the word from their leader, knives poised. They had been promised no one need die for this, that if the people the symbols represented cooperated, then together, they would quell Alcor's wrath the only way a demon could be quelled – by death, or being sealed away.

 

It was the only possible thing that the Mizar who had penned those words and written this ritual could have meant. 

 

But if there was no other alternative, if it was the lives of their captives or their own, then they knew what they would choose.

 

Better a quick death by knife than one at a demon's hands, and the chance to rid the world of the Dreambender.

 

“Alcor?”the Mizar across from Dipper said, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the room, looking at him solemnly before closing her eyes. “I trust you.” 

 

The words seemed to reverberate, vibrating through the glow of the circle's lines, the light growing ever brighter than before. 

 

Lucy Ann grinned at Dipper from her side of the circle, baring hungry fangs, the grin of a starving wolf who sees their pack-mate about to make a kill they will share. “Kick their asses already, dork. What the hell are you waiting for?”

 

Dipper grinned back, the grin turning to a snarl in an instant, all his teeth bared, the gold of his eyes narrowed to slits as he crouched low. The power that was pulsing through the circle was making it hard to think, an overload of energy that pulsed to the same thought. _My family. Mine. Protect them! You shall not touch them! Mine!_

 

There was a blast of blue fire, forcing the cultists to stagger away from the chained symbols. It sank into the ground, flaring high through the lines, circling around the symbols protectively. 

 

The cultists staggered away from the heat, though it was barely a pleasant warmth to the people inside the circle.

 

Inside the circle of fire, they couldn't see what was going on. Most sound was drowned out by the roaring of the flames, leaving them all well lit but unable yet to tell just what was going on, trapping them inside the wall of flames with the demon.

 

Then, with a roar, Alcor leapt over the flames and out of the circle.

 

 

“Bind him!” the head cultist cried out as Alcor leapt through the flames, teeth and claws bared. “Bind him now! The symbols are ours, use them!”

 

“T̢h̛e͢y ̵arè mi͡ne!” Alcor roared, a sweep of his claws sending blood spraying high into the blue flame, the fires reaching higher and roaring for more.

 

The chanting resumed, louder than earlier, a note of terror to it that hadn't been there before, and now that he was outside the circle Alcor could feel it binding him down, chains made of power biting into his wings and arms and back, and he thrashed violently, throwing them off with effort, feeling the power of his symbols and their belief in him (at least, the belief of those of him who had met him, and those who who rather take their chances with him then with the humans who'd brought them here) giving him the power to throw off magic that should have bound him for a short time at the very least.

 

The cultists panicked as Alcor ignored the circle, the circle that was meant to hold him, the one that had been promised would hold him, ignored the spell that Mizar had said would quell his wrath but only angered him more, and finally they broke and fled.

 

Their leader screamed for them to hold their positions, barely heard over the roar of the flames.

 

The fires around the circle rose even higher, a dome over the circle still holding the people whose souls corresponded to the symbols of Alcor's circle, drowning out the screams with their roaring.

 

And when the flames finally died down, the room was empty of life save for the people chained there.

 

 

None of them were sure just how long it had been that they had been left alone while the demon hunted down those who had dragged them here. It had been long enough for some of them to wonder if they'd been left there to die, yet short enough to fear when the noise of someone approaching filtered through the doors.

 

The doors burst open and the demon was framed there, light glowing around his figure, almost as if he were something holy.

 

He stood there, illuminated, like a hero out of a ballad, head down and hands gripping the doors hard enough to bend the metal, breathing heavily, and chills ran over each of them his eyes touched.

 

Slowly Alcor raised his head and his eyes traveled over them, taking in each of them individually, checking for something, only he would know what.

 

Then his face crinkled like a child's and he flung himself at Lucy Ann with a wail of her name, skidding on his knees to a stop beside her.

 

He snatched the tiny vampire up off the ground, the chains snapping at his touch, and hugged her tight, squeezing close and nuzzling at her cheek.

 

“You're okay you're okay you're okay,” Alcor repeated, over and over again, hugging and cuddling the vampire like a stuffed toy. Around them, the symbols watched in various reactions of confusion, fear, and bafflement.

 

All save two, who were amused, tickled, and a bit worried. Even with a bit of experience with Dipper, they still hadn't expected a reaction quite that dramatic.

 

Lucy Ann, for her part, was humoring her best friend for the moment. 

 

Then that moment ended and she started squirming to get free. 

 

“I'm fine, put me down you absolute dork,” she growled, even if it was a somewhat fond growl. “Before I rip your throat out. We don't have time for this.”

 

To the surprise of most of the people in the room, Alcor did as he was told, setting the vampire down and scrubbing at his cheeks, which were covered in a mix of gold and clear tears, though he was still visibly worked up. 

 

After giving the demon a brief moment to recover, Lucy Ann tugged his head down and whispered something in his ear. Alcor nodded and the two tapped fists with a quick burst of blue flame.

 

Alcor snapped his fingers and the walls of the warehouse melted around them, fading into a basement. Not much of an improvement to most of them, but Lucy Ann visibly relaxed.

 

The chains that had been keeping the rest of them tied down dissolved with the room, but that wasn't much comfort. The doors at the far side of the room looked to be locked, and there was a demon and vampire between them and it besides.

 

Then the demon turned to look at them.

 

And promptly burst into more tears and launched himself at the nearest person.

 

“SARVA!” he wailed, latching himself onto the young man, who fell back onto the ground at the impact. “Sarva! I was so worried about you!”

 

“Um...I...sorry?” the young man Alcor had latched onto stammered, hesitantly patting Alcor a few times as the demon buried his face in his shirt. “Thanks? ...um...little help here, someone?”

 

Everyone save Lucy Ann was too shocked to move and help him, and Lucy Ann was too busy smirking to help.

 

And then, as suddenly as he'd launched himself at the man he'd named “Sarva” – the ax on the wheel, if his neighbors remembered correctly – Alcor was launching himself at another symbol, hugging them just as tightly and covering their clothing with demonic tears.

 

After the first few, although most of the people there were still nervous and uncomfortable with the idea of being hugged and cried on by an overly emotional demon, the fear of him suddenly turning on them was mostly gone.

 

The confusion, however, was stronger than ever.

 

Even when everyone had been loved on, cried over and fussed over, Alcor didn't seem to be calming down any. 

 

Mina took one for the team and coaxed him to latch onto her, a demonic koala of a brother, and shifted his grip until he hung on her back she could stand without him falling off.

 

“Does anyone here know what's going on?” Robin, the one Alcor had called Sarva, asked, a bit peevishly, now that Alcor was quiet and they could actually converse without the risk of drawing his attention. “Like, maybe, you two?” he said, pointing at Lucy Ann and Mina. “I think we'd all like some answers from someone who isn't a raging cultist lunatic. Like why that demon is still alive and not sealed away or dead – not that I'm saying I want him dead, mind you,” he added quickly before the demon or its friend could take offense, “but they sounded pretty sure that circle and that spell were going to kill him. Or bind him, or something. And why's he freaking out over us like that?”

 

“You may want to settle in,” Mina said, exchanging glances with Lucy Ann. “But I think I can explain some of it. Hey, you know where we are, Lucy Ann?”

 

“Why do you know things?” Florentino, the six-fingered hand, demanded, levering himself shakily to his feet. “Why should we listen to you?”

 

“I'm Mizar,” Mina said simply, gesturing to the happily snuggling Alcor for proof. “And you may want to sit back down, 'cuz he told me everything, and I think you may be in for a bit of a shock.”

 

She glanced around the room again, and winced. “And booze. We may need booze. Lots and lots of booze. Can you set us up, Lucy Ann?”

 

“Sure can. Come on, everybody. This is going to take awhile. May as well be comfortable while we do it. We've got a long evening ahead of us.” The look Lucy Ann shot Alcor as she said that was a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Only this dork, I swear.”

 


End file.
